


In Company

by romanticalgirl



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 20:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is it such a chore?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Company

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/)**nolivingman** for the beta.
> 
> Originally posted 7-6-08

The debacle of Muzillac behind them, Kennedy stared out at the docks of Portsmouth, his features carved into a frown.

“Why the long face, Mister Kennedy?” He barely acknowledged Edrington, his eyes still on the distant shore. The major settled near him, his elbows on the railing. “Your Mister Hornblower seems well over the loss of his lady love.”

“He is not, in any way, _my_ Mister Hornblower, My Lord.” Archie canted an eyebrow upwards as he turned his gaze toward Edrington. “I find Mister Hornblower quite adept at being his own man, and I do quite well at being my own.”

“No question, Mister Kennedy.” Edrington’s wry mouth curved into a knowing smile. “In that case, should the Captain allow it, perhaps you would join me for a drink this evening ashore?”

Kennedy exhaled and shook his head. “Thank you very much for the invitation, my Lord, but I’m afraid I’ve no desire to recount the failure of our mission, however pleasant the company or good the wine.”

“Our mission, Mister Kennedy, was to blow the bridge. Which we did. The failure was not ours, but that of the Army of France.”

“If your enemies win, my Lord,” Kennedy looked over at Edrington, his smile bitter and brittle, “You fail.”

**

Pellew shook Edrington’s hand on the dock. “A pleasure to serve with you, Lord Edrington.”

“And you as well, Captain Pellew. You have a fine crew of good men. Are you off to the Admiralty then?”

“Indeed. An accounting must, as always, be made.”

Edrington nodded, casting his glance over to where Archie stood on the jolly boat, directing the loading of the Captain’s things. “If I might, Captain, I would like to discuss something with Acting Lieutenant Kennedy, but I fear he has little desire to continue in my company. I do not suppose I could dare ask your intervention in the matter?”

Archie stiffened, the words like ice in his veins. He schooled his face, continuing to direct the men. He could feel both Pellew’s and Edrington’s gaze on him and he jerked his chin, barking a sharp order as progress slowed at the sight of a few dock whores.

“Mister Kennedy’s free time is his to do with as he wishes, my Lord. I feel it would be beyond my place to require him to spend it in a way not in line with his own desires.”

Edrington’s smile tightened. “Of course, Captain.”

“However, Mister Kennedy’s presence is needed on the ship this evening, and as I will be at the Admiralty, you’re welcome to stay aboard and make use of my cabin.” Pellew made his way to the rail, waiting until Kennedy had joined him on deck before nodding to Edrington and taking his leave of them all.

**

“Is it such a chore, Mr. Kennedy?” Edrington poured another glass of wine, the rest of the table cleared of the dishes they’d emptied, using Pellew’s man to prepare foods Edrington had had sent over to the ship. “Spending time in my company? Good food. Good wine. And not once have I mentioned France.”

“Save now.” Kennedy’s mouth quirked into a smile, his innate good humor refusing to stay hidden long, no matter his pique at being cornered into the meal. “Perhaps you were simply waiting, my Lord, until I had had sufficient wine and my defenses were down.”

“Something tells me, Mr. Kennedy, that your defenses are never down.” Edrington picked up his glass and leaned back, taking a small sip. “Certainly not with me. Perhaps with Hornblower.” He smiled as Kennedy’s face darkened and then shook his head. “Another word not mentioned before now. I suppose it speaks well for the rest of our evening if we manage to identify the topics best left untouched as quickly as possible.”

“I don’t know what you mean, my Lord.”

“You most certainly do, Mr. Kennedy.” Edrington’s smile widened, but then thinned and he sighed his annoyance softly. “Tell me, has playing the fool worked for you in the past, or do you simply persist in it out of sheer stubbornness?” Archie’s bright eyes darkened as his jaw clenched. Edrington’s chest jerked with a huff of amused air and he shook his head. “And now I’ve insulted you beyond measure. How do you survive, Mr. Kennedy, when you are so easy to anger?”

“A question for the ages, my Lord.” Kennedy took a sip of his wine as well, holding it against his tongue for a long while before swallowing. “How is it your men haven’t turned on their major when you are so intent to strike sparks off of every man you meet?”

“You flatter me, Mr. Kennedy.” Edrington set his wine down and walked over to the door, locking it. “I can assure you, I strike sparks off very few men.” He returned to the table, moving behind Kennedy, his hand sliding over the broad stretch of Archie’s shoulders, lingering slightly as he bent down, his voice soft, warm, and taunting in Kennedy’s ear. “But the ones I do, well…”

Kennedy’s body swayed slightly, as if a sudden wave had buffeted the ship. His eyes hovered dangerously toward closed as he turned his head toward Edrington. “What are you doing, my Lord?”

“Not I, Mr. Kennedy.” Edrington smiled, his own eyes narrowed as he leaned in. He could taste the air, rich with wine and excitement and fear and expectation. “We. What are we doing?”

“We.” Archie didn’t move, though his lips remained parted. His pulse beat rough and rapid at the base of his throat, the movement catching Edrington’s eye as he tugged Kennedy’s stock loose. “What-” Kennedy stopped as Edrington’s fingers traced over the pulse point. “What are we doing? M-my Lord?”

“Not a thing, Mr. Kennedy.” Edrington’s mouth brushed Kennedy’s and his lips curved into a smile as Kennedy moved forward to follow him as he pulled away. He swept his tongue over Kennedy’s parted lips then curved his hand along Kennedy’s throat. “Not a single thing.”

Archie surrendered to the kiss as Edrington finally closed his mouth over him, tongue sliding along Edrington’s. He didn’t battle him for domination, simply let the major take the lead. It was clear from the aggressive hunger Edrington kissed him with that he wouldn’t have wrested control away had he tried. Instead, he took the hard thrust of Edrington’s tongue, sucking on it hungrily.

Edrington groaned and pulled back, his eyes dark as they met Kennedy’s. His hand tightened on Archie’s throat, thumb sweeping over the swell of his Adam’s apple and then down to the hollow. Archie’s breathing hitched slightly and Edrington’s mouth found his again, his free hand braced on the back of Archie’s chair.

Without thought, Kennedy reached out, fingers finding the buttons of Edrington’s uniform jacket, working the metal through the holes and pushing the fabric away. His waistcoat fell aside next, as Archie worked with deft fingers until he was easing Edrington’s shirt loose enough that he could find the hot skin beneath, the hair-roughened planes of his stomach rasping against Archie’s calloused hands.

Edrington broke the kiss, inhaling sharply and stepping away from Archie’s touch. Archie watched him for a moment as Edrington tilted his head back and exhaled, the sound ragged. “Stand up, Mr. Kennedy.”

Archie rose, his legs as unsteady as his first time aboard ship, as those first days back after El Ferrol. Edrington reached out, his hands brushing Archie’s shoulders, skimming over the worn blue fabric of his arms until he reached the cuff, then across his stomach. He undid the buttons, mimicking the easy gestures Kennedy had made until they both were in a similar state of disarray. Kennedy watched his hands, his breathing drawn shallowly into his lungs. Edrington moved quickly, undoing the placket of Kennedy’s trousers and tugging his shirt free.

“This…we cannot,” Kennedy muttered, moving in to find Edrington’s mouth again, putting lie to his words. The speaking stopped completely, only the sound of ship around them and the rustling of discarded clothes filling the air. Kennedy groaned softly, his mouth moving down to Edrington’s neck as he pushed the jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as he tugged the open collar of the shirt back to graze his teeth down to the collarbone. Edrington laughed roughly against Kennedy’s blond hair, his own hands sliding down to free Kennedy’s shaft, wrapping his fingers around it smoothly. “M-my…my Lord.” Kennedy gasped against Edrington’s skin, his hips thrusting forward against Edrington’s palm.

“Silence,” Edrington purred into Kennedy’s ear, turning him and guiding him back toward Pellew’s low-slung cot. “Not a word, lieutenant.” He guided Kennedy down, onto his back and knelt on the boards at his feet, tugging down the trousers to expose pale thighs, ropey with muscle. Edrington leaned in, lips parted on a salacious grin, and flicked his tongue over the head of Kennedy’s shaft. “Not a sound.”

Shifting up onto his elbows, Kennedy nodded and watched as Edrington’s mouth moved against the skin of his arousal, his tongue flickering against the skin intermittently as if deliberately to provoke Kennedy to make a sound. He remained silent, the only sound his rough, uncontrollable breathing as Edrington finally looked up, eyes wicked and hungry, as he looked at Kennedy, and took him into his mouth.

It took everything in Archie to keep the sound strangled in his throat as Edrington’s lips closed around him, his tongue pressed hard to Archie’s flesh. Archie clung to the rough blanket beneath him, his hands fisting as his hips rocked upward into Edrington’s hot, waiting mouth. He moved on instinct, matching the downward stroke of Edrington’s mouth. Slick heat coated him, thick and wet, and Kennedy let his head fall back, his lips parted but doing nothing to even his breathing as Edrington’s mouth grew tighter, the pressure and suction increasing. Archie’s body lifted, arching upward into his mouth, his heels leaving the floor as he spent himself as deep as he could in Edrington’s throat.

Edrington eased back onto his heels, his own trousers pulled taut over his thighs, his arousal. Kennedy turned his head to look at him and then growled, the sound low and primal before tumbling off the bed and crawling the short distance to the other man. His hands were half-numb and senseless, but he managed to free Edrington’s shaft, pushing him onto the floor and taking him deep in his mouth, no preamble. Edrington hips rose up until Archie’s hands closed around his hips, pushing him back down against the rough wood worn smooth by years of heavy boots and worry, plans and war.

One hand swung up and curved around the carved leg of the table, and Edrington wrapped the other around the matching leg of the chair, filling the room with the scratch of it sliding closer. Kennedy huffed roughly and took Edrington deeper, forcing a muffled groan from Edrington’s lips. Archie shifted his grip, sliding his hands down Edrington’s thighs and then beneath them, pushing at the underside until his legs were up, his body more open. The chair moved again, the table groaning in concert with it as Edrington’s other hand jerked, pulling both closer.

Kennedy pulled back, his breath hot and rough. “Quiet, my Lord. Not a sound.” He laughed huskily and then took Edrington deep again, still laughing against the smooth, heated skin. Edrington made a low sound, hips jerking twice then he spilled himself in Kennedy’s mouth, watching with narrowed eyes as Kennedy swallowed him down, pulling back to lick his lips, cocky satisfaction in his own blue eyes.

“You see, lieutenant?” Edrington got to his feet slowly, using the chair to support himself. Kennedy stayed on the floor for a moment longer, finally accepting the hand Edrington offered. “Not a word of defeat or victory. You should trust me when I offer company.”

“This was your plan, was it, my Lord?”

“Of course.” Edrington smiled, his gaze knowing and sharp. “We accomplished our mission, and you saw only failure. Your Mr. Hornblower survived, but you saw only what he left behind. I dare you, Mr. Kennedy, find one thing about this evening from which you can draw defeat.”

“Well.” Archie sighed softly and glanced around the room, his gaze settling on the mussed bed. “I fear that, should Captain Pellew call me in for a dressing down, I won’t be able to think of anything but the one _you_ provided, my Lord.”

“That, to me, Mr. Kennedy,” Edrington leaned in and kissed him once more, “sounds very much like victory.”  



End file.
